


Travelling Tight

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [72]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Impala, M/M, Parental Discipline, Spanking, Traveling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 72: Safe.  On the road, John gets a call for help from Mistress Tess.  And Dean mouths off.  Oh Dean...  Continues from previous travel arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Travelling Tight

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright notice: I hold the copyright for Mistress Tess & the venue, characters, and multiple storylines associated with her. Someday (hopefully sooner than later) you'll see her in a series of novels, I ask that at this time others refrain from use of the character without express permission. She is allowed to play in fanfic, I just request that I know about it. Frankly, I hesitate to post any of the fics with her in them, it's always a struggle... but... here we are.
> 
> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only. Follows in series from previous prompts, but stands alone if preferred.

It takes John something like ten minutes to get through the various messages. Most of them are from Jim and Bobby, giving updates, there’s a few from Missouri, praising their efforts, goddamn psychic, two from Mathieu, one checking in, and one expressing concern over Tess. He’s glad that no other hunters have contacted him, and is starting to relax when he gets the message from Tess.

“John, I need you. There’s another situation down here. It’s being managed, but it needs something more than a passing hunter. Call me.” The timestamp on the message is from yesterday. Good. He leans on the trusty Impala, and dials her number. She’s upset, he thinks, he can hear the sounds of stress in her voice.

“Trouble there, girl?”

“John. I wasn’t sure. Mathieu said-“

“How big.”

“Big. Mathieu had me talk to Jim Murphy. Said it’s connected to the hunt you did down here a while back. Can you come, John?”

That told him just how big it was. That she’d talked with Jim, that it was connected to something they thought they’d put to bed. “On our way. Was going to stop for the night – you need us to drive straight through?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “John, I…”

“We’ll pull it through. I have to warn you though, we’ve been living in the woods for about three weeks, we’re a little rough around the edges.”

“I can clean your act up for you,” she said crisply, relief bleeding through. 

He chuckled. “We’re stopped right now, had to break up a fight.”

“Hm,” she said. “That would be some stress relief right there. Get out my paddle, shall I?”

“You do that,” he says, stretching, and contemplating his sons. Sam’s standing at attention, and Dean’s slumped against the tree. Six hours to go. “You have an emergency in the next six, you want someone to call?”

“Jim gave me Bobby Singer’s number.” 

Shit. “Good. Use it if you need to. We’ll put it down.”

“John?”

“Get your paddle out. See you.”

He wasn’t gonna let her down. He’d let her relax when he got there, got the boys out sussing the situation at hand. Hard enough for her to run the business in the first place, without the supernatural threats. Anyways.

“BOYS! Front and center!” He watches them line up at the front of the Impala, and studies them. Red-faced, they won’t quite look at him, or each other. Though as he gives them a minute, shuffling there, Dean’s eyeing Sam. Funny, thinks John. And then reminds himself to not let Dean focus on his brothers poor behaviour and neglect that he screwed up himself.

“We have a job to do. Need to drive straight through, there’s someone who needs us-“

“I TOLD you to check your damn cell phone!” 

John stares at Dean, mouth dropping open slightly. The shock only lasts for a minute, and then he strides forward and collars the boy, who’s looking like he might like to take back the insubordination and the language, but isn’t going to get an opportunity to. He’s close enough to touch Sam, and he feels his youngest shiver slightly, a sure sign the kid’s upset. It takes a moment to fish the keys out of his pocket, and he hands them to a confused Sammy, never letting go of Dean.

“Sam. You’re going to drive for about three hours, so I can get some rest.”

“W-where-“

“Aim it at Iowa, stay on mid-line highways – blacktop, no dirt. Stay off I-35.”

“Y-yessir.”

“Now get in the car and wait.” He’s amused that Sam turns and folds himself into the driver’s seat, and even though he’s pissed, John wants to laugh at the look on Dean’s face. Well. If there’s any further mutiny he’ll take his belt off. He hauls Dean behind one of the willow trees and upends him, hooking his left arm around Dean’s waist and picking him up off the ground. And then he starts spanking in earnest. He might have gone light on the back half of the spanking Dean just got, but this one’s a different story. Disbelief lets him spank a littler harder, because he can’t believe that Dean would mouth off like that right after a spanking. At least it’s making an impression, to judge by the squirming, and John sighs, knowing that his oldest son likely isn’t going to sit comfortably for a couple of days. He hates doing this – so much for not wanting to leave the boy sore for very long, he thinks, and lands a couple harder blows on the undercurve of Dean’s backside, listening to the boy fighting tears. 

He doesn’t even hug the kid, he’s that irritated, just tows him along by the collar, tosses him in the back. Sam’s looking seriously distressed, and he’s not going to say a thing to him either, he’s just too damn tired, so he slides into the backseat behind Sam. He catches Dean looking at him in horror. John never rides in the back. 

“Pull out, Sammy. You have trouble staying awake, or even paying attention, you tell me, got it?”

“Yessir.” Interesting. The boy’s voice was calmer – he LOOKS calmer, and the smooth pull out reflects that. He catches Sam looking for him in the mirror, a frown creasing his forehead, and knows Sam’s felt the issue with the suspension, just gives his boy a wry look and a nod, and then his son focuses on the road entirely. Which leaves him to Dean. He reaches out a big hand and hauls his oldest son over to him, gets an arm around the kid. He turns to look at his boy.

“You’re going to lay down, right here, and get some sleep where I can keep an eye on you,” he says, and sees Dean take a breath. “Don’t you dare argue me, or I can keep you on punishment detail for twice as long as I was planning.” Subsiding. Good sign. “Now,” he says, just a hint of command, and Dean tries to curl up beside him. Only John’s having none of that. He’s ready with both the blankets in the backseat, one goes over his own lap, where he pulls Dean’s head to rest, and the other gets flipped over the boy. He feels satisfied when Dean winces, as the blanket touches his backside. Slowly, he strokes the blonde hair until Dean’s sleeping, then puts his own head back. Sam probably won’t wake him until they near Des Moines, and that’s fine, they’ll only be an hour or two away by then.


End file.
